


To Teach a Lesson

by PaperAnn



Series: PaperAnn's Kink Bingo 2017 Works [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Professors, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Dean is a Tease, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oral Fixation, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2017, Top Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 02:01:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11453646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperAnn/pseuds/PaperAnn
Summary: Cas and Dean are professors who’ve forged a close friendship.  They teach in the same department, enjoy chatting over lesson plans during lunch, hell, Dean had even managed to pull Cas out of his comfort-zone to grab a drink.  To be honest, there isn't much they don't do together.Except, Dean is a massive distraction, whether he knows it or not.  The man is constantly chewing his pens, drinking his McDonald’s $1 coke while absently nibbling the straw, shoveling down his lunch and always letting the fork linger between his lips justtoolong.  No matter how hard Cas tries not to, no matter how much he attempts to control himself, he can’t help but wonder what that mouth would feel like wrapped around his cock.





	To Teach a Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SPN Kink Bingo 2017  
> Square Filled: Oral Fixation
> 
> Finally getting around to posting these! I'll get the series set up, and many more will be on their way :)
> 
> A million thanks to [GlitchedWings](https://idjitsaviors.tumblr.com/) who has been amazing, editing all these random works! Super excited about this challenge - I WILL stop being lazy and begin posting what I've got finished <3

“Hey!  I thought we had a date!”

Castiel was knocked out of his daze looking over midterm exams by a very familiar voice heckling him from the doorway.  It echoed through the empty lecture hall and although he didn’t physically tense, he could feel his chest tighten ever-so-slightly.

He glanced over to see Dean snapping his fingers at him and looking unimpressed.  “C’mon, Cas.  I called for delivery and everything.  We’ve got an hour, you can glare at your papers later!”

With a forced laughed, he mentally agreed that these papers could wait, and verbally confirmed, “I’ll be right over, Dean.”

“Okay, food’s gonna get cold, though!” he tossed the words casually over his shoulder as he turned around and sauntered off.

It wasn’t as though Castiel didn’t want to have lunch with his friend.  No, it was the exact opposite.  He liked the other professor, maybe _too much_.  What he felt was well beyond what was appropriate for a fellow colleague.

When he began teaching at the university, he mostly kept to himself.  It wasn’t until faculty meetings that he even learned the names of the other professors teaching in his department.  Castiel had always come to work, held office hours, done his job and then gone home.  He didn’t feel the need to reach out and make connections or socialize with the staff—it wasn’t a priority for him.

Yet, Dean had honed in on his lack of social skills and didn’t appreciate his need for solidarity.  Instead, he had _seized_ the opportunity.

Dean made it his God-sent mission to ‘crack’ him, because he’d heard other students talk about the ‘stick up his ass’ and that just wasn’t how Dean wanted the department to be represented.  Or so he said.  Castiel believed at first he was simply a nuisance with nothing better to do with his time.  If they were talking about rumors, what he’d heard from student was that _Dean_ was the ‘fun’ and devilishly attractive professor that everyone fawned over.

That made Castiel’s hackles raise instantly, when he was first approached.  He did not want some haughty, self-absorbed professor more intent on winning over student opinion than teaching them material catching an interest in him.  It was against everything that Castiel stood for.  He’d met professors like this in the past, and wanted nothing to do with them.

Once they moved beyond the initial barrier that Castiel had erected and finally spoke political science…they had _much_ more in common than either would have thought.  He was pleasantly surprised to find himself proven wrong about Dean Winchester, and felt himself drawn in by not only his charisma, but his intelligence.  They began to take short breaks to chat some more, which turned into long lunches, and down time in their schedules whenever they had an opening.

They’d forged an easy and strangely close friendship, and it went beyond helping one another with lesson plans and talking shop.

Even though Castiel was notorious for enjoying his alone time, being told he ‘lived like a hermit,’ Dean had shockingly managed to drag him out of his house on occasion to grab a drink or dinner.  He usually loathed going out, but when he was dragged to the bar he surprisingly found he enjoyed those times with Dean just as much.

But these days… things were difficult.

Because Castiel’s focus had, in a way, shifted.

His attraction had amplified and he didn’t trust himself to be around the other professor as much as he used to.  Mostly, because Dean had been… distracting.

If they were working together on a paper or workshop, the moment Dean was deep in thought, he’d begin absently chewing on his pen.  All the caps, as well as the ends, had small indentations and marks from his teeth, and no one probably noticed except Castiel.

At least three times a week, he’d have a student in the afternoon grab him a ridiculous large McDonald’s coke (he’d always tip her more than the one dollar it cost) and it would last him the day.  But… he did this thing.  Even when he wasn’t drinking from the straw, he’d absently let it linger in-between his lips, nearly pulling it from the cup, other times just nibbling at the tip.

He’d do the same thing with a fork when he ate, letting it dangle from his mouth, or licking _every_ damn _remnant_ of sauce off every angle…and no normal person would probably recognize all these small nuances about Dean’s oral fixation except for Castiel.  Because one of the first things, upon his attraction, that he was drawn to were Dean’s lips…

Now, it made lunch utter _torture_.

Because his mind would wander, and all the fantasies about what Dean could do with that mouth—

Castiel abruptly stood up in his seat and admonished himself.

He needed to focus!  He needed to get his act together, he couldn’t ruin a perfectly good, and frankly cherished, friendship because he was sex-starved and Dean was perfect.

He rolled his eyes, knowing that once he actually had a distraction he would be all right, and it was the internal build-up that always threw him for a loop.  Castiel left his midterm papers behind and walked down the hallway to where he found the door ajar.

With a smile, he could hear Dean humming a tune before he even walked in.  His energy was contagious and it happened to be another thing Cas was so drawn to.  This spark, this life wasn’t easily found (as well as the unwavering optimism) which was part of the reason he left his old job, and why he hadn’t gone out of his way to introduce himself around here.  Too many professors in the teaching world were jaded and going through the motions for a paycheck that (frankly) didn't cover the work they put into the job.

Yet Dean… he was the kind of man who inspired, who would lead a new generation, and if that wasn’t enough—

“Fuckin’ _finally_!” he caught sight of Cas and threw his arms in the air, “Did you crab walk yer ass here?”

He made up for impudence.

Castiel snorted and crossed the room, explaining, “I was attempting to get a head start in grading my morning midterm essays before—”

“No excuses, Novak,” he grabbed Cas’ hand and yanked him down onto the chair he’d pulled up alongside his own, “I’m not a ditchable date.”  Dean pushed one white bag forward towards him as he dug into his own.  “I even went out of my way to get that Greek food you like.  You’re welcome,” he winked and pulled out a tin-foil-wrapped-something.

“You’re a very kind date, Dean.  I‘ll do better to pick you up promptly next time,” Cas returned with a hint of sarcasm, and dug through his own bag because now that he thought of it?  He really was starving.  And he knew precisely what restaurant Dean was speaking of, it was actually making his stomach growl.  “How did your morning classes go?”

“Mm,” Dean shrugged, ripping the foil prison from his pita wrap before looking Cas dead in the eye and saying, “One of my groups for midterm projects?  Almost caught the school on fire.  So that was cool.”

“Excuse me?” Cas blinked widely, tilting his head to the side.

“It was supposed to be a metaphor, you know!  I told them the more creative, the better, and these guys...well, they took it to a whole new level.”  With a small burst of laughter, he picked up his lunch and amended, “I took off points for arson, though.  Can’t condone school work that’s got the real-life consequences of jail time.  How ‘bout you?”

Instead of just biting into the pita, Dean was giving Cas his full, undivided attention while he lapped up the end that was leaking hummus instead.  

It made Castiel freeze in his tracks because _these_ moments, right here, were the ones that killed him.  This image sent a shiver down his spine.  All rational thoughts flew out the window because when they were by themselves like this, all he could think about was how Dean’s mouth would look sucking his cock.

But he couldn’t think like that!

Even though the way his tongue flickered out would’ve been—

With a rough clearing of his throat, Cas said, “N-no arson in my class.  We did have a few heated debated, which I always encourage.  And…” he trailed off, because Dean was a messy eater—it was a _fact_ _—_ and now he was licking off his fingers instead of using a napkin.  “…And I…” he stumbled over his words, tearing his eyes away, and wondered why the hell he hadn’t started eating?

Castiel pathetically finished, “Yes, I enjoy a good debate,” and picked up his fork, angrily stabbing at his salad because when, precisely, had he lost all self-control?

He felt like a fool, drowning at sea, like he had no control over his hormones.  He wasn’t a teenager!

“Uh-huh,” Dean didn’t sound quite convinced, but he was hungry and never stopped until he was finished.  Like a human garbage disposal.  A hungry Dean Winchester was a fanatic when it came to food.  Even when he complained about what he was eating, he’d still demolish every scrap on the plate.

That actually gave Castiel time to gather his bearing.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Dean had brought him his favorite tea, too.  He must have gotten that for Cas on his way into work, since he’d already said that this was delivery.  Cas’ heart was lighter thinking just how considerate that was, and how he needed to get his shit together and _not_ avoid him, since clearly Dean put a lot of thought behind today and Cas had tried to ‘forget.’  Forgetting wasn’t the answer.

There was a soft smile on his face when he reached out and grabbed the bottle to tear past the seal.

“So,” Dean began after a lull in the conversation, finally using his napkin to wipe his mouth, wadding it up and jamming it in his empty bag.  “There’s something that’s been on my mind.”

“Oh?”

Castiel was praying the nerves in his voice didn’t show.

“Yeah.”  There were determined undertones there as he scooted his chair closer to Cas.  “Did I do something wrong?  You’ve been acting all dodgy around me lately.  And I know I can be an ass but… I thought we were okay.  I thought we were _more_ than okay, I mean, we—”

“No!  Oh, God, no,” Cas blurted out, because that’s _not_ what he’d wanted at all.  “We’re _fine_ , Dean.  I never meant to give you that impression, I apologize, I-”

While Castiel had no idea how to explain, the first and most important thing was taking any blame away from Dean.  He hadn’t thought his actions would have appeared like this; he was attempting to look busy, not as though he was upset!  He’d painted himself into a corner and now he didn’t have the words to explain what the problem even was!

“Well?” Dean asked with a brow raised in anticipation, his hand reaching out to rest on Cas’ knee.  “You wanna tell me what’s going on?  Because there _is_ a big, fat, something.”

What the hell could he say?

Castiel knew he owed Dean some kind of explanation if it had been this obvious, so he glanced up to meet his eyes and found that the man’s haughty exterior had melted into concern.  By itself, that was worrying.

Slowly, Cas put his hand over Dean’s (it was warm and felt amazing under his own) and steeled his resolve.  “I tend to find myself overly…distracted with you sometimes.  The fault lies with me, I needed to put this distance between us when I should have thought about you, too.”  He wryly admitted, “It’s a preoccupation.  I’m in the wrong.”

Suddenly, glee lit up in Dean’s previously bothered eyes and it tinged them a bright mischievous green.  “Preoccupation, huh?  What kind are we talking about?”  He leaned in as he said it.

And, fuck, if Cas’ eyes didn’t go straight to those lips—

Instead, he decided to clarify, “I said _distraction_ , first.  Which is more relevant, given your personality flaws.”

“So if you think I’m letting this go, you’re wrong,” Dean vowed, and there wasn’t a doubt in Cas’ mind he’d caught the way his eyes flickered, because now he was licking his lips and flipping his hand to grab Cas’.  “Come on.  Tell me how I distract you?  Pretty please?”

Oh, and now the concept of how Dean would sound _begging_ flashed through his mind.

With Dean’s hand in his and their proximity so close, practically breathing the same air—Cas snapped.

He tore himself away, pulled from Dean’s grasp, shot up off the chair and headed for the door.  Just when he heard the desperate attempt to get him back, Cas was flipping the lock and turning back around.  Dean’s expression bloomed to one of surprise, because Castiel stomped directly towards him without missing a beat.

He grabbed Dean by the collar and his voice dropped dangerously low, “I think you’re a tease.  I think you do it on purpose.  To push me.  To see if I’ll do anything.”

With a wide grin, he inquired playfully, “Is it working?”

Castiel had to hold back the growl that was threatening to rumble deep in his chest.  “You think it’s funny?  Driving me insane?”

“Hey, I tried to wine and dine you,” his timbre turned seductive, “but sometimes you just can’t take the hint, Cas.”

In that moment, Castiel didn’t know whether to feel joy, anger, or seek vengeance.  But he _did_ know one thing.  He’d been trying to will down an erection the entire time he’d been here, with a front row seat to Dean’s damn performance.  And now the way he was eyeing Cas and batting his eyelashes?  Knowing that it was all _intentional_?  He decided he didn’t give a damn about hiding it anymore.

“So you deliberately drove me to a breaking point,” he summarized, and dammit, if Dean didn’t deserve everything that was coming to him.

Dean was asking for it, when he pushed beyond Castiel’s hold of his collar and pressed their lips together.  God, if he hadn’t been craving the taste for practically as long as he knew the man…

Dean’s kiss was as teasing as he was, plush lips moving perfectly against Cas’ while his tongue flicked against them.  Yet it was Cas who eventually began licking inside Dean’s mouth—at the same time he grabbed Dean’s wrist with a bruising force to drag it to the front of his pants, showing him what he caused.

Cas’ words were ordered when he demanded against Dean’s lips, “Do you see what you do to me?  Do you have _any idea_ how many times I’ve had to leave because of where your so-called flirting has gotten me?  You owe me.”

When Castiel arched into his palm, Dean gasped and pulled back to stare at attention, eyes dark with lust.  It looked like he was having a difficult time stringing together words, and that simply thrilled Cas because Dean was normally quick-witted and sharp.  Maybe he hadn’t been anticipating this exact scenario, maybe he thought this was going to lead to a hot make-out, and that was it.  But he was dead wrong.

He’d underestimated just how driven and sexually frustrated Castiel was.  He’d underestimated how far he’d pushed him, how long this battle had been being waged, and the maddening price.  Maybe he was getting the idea, as Cas shoved his hand aside to unbutton and unzip his pants, he’d have to see firsthand just how Dean had drove him to the brink.

With a dropped jaw, he agreed, “I _do_ owe you…”  Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from Cas’ movements, he was entranced and practically vibrating with anticipation.  “How do you want me to make it up to you?”

Cas grabbed his chin, and forced his attention back upward.  There was gratification in seeing the hunger practically flashing in those lust-blown pupils in front of him.  Dean’s face was flushed, his breath racing and Castiel didn’t think he’d seen anything so beautiful in his life.  Soon enough, though… he planned on upping the stakes and creating an even _more_ stunning picture.

“I think you’ll know exactly what to do,” he deliberately pronounced, “Once you’re on your knees.”

With an unintentional whimper, Dean cursed out, “ _Jesus fuck_ , Cas.  Where did this come from?” and there was boundless excitement and yearning in his voice.

Castiel closed the gap to draw Dean’s lower lip into his mouth and nipped it roughly, then asked, “Are you going to keep asking stupid questions and procrastinating?  Or are you going to do as you’re told?”

He shook his head with a grin, sinking down to the floor and raking his nails down Cas’ thighs as he went.  “You’re sexy as hell, you know exactly what you want, don’t you?”

“I have for a very, very long time.  That mouth on you could be put to good use, let’s see how you use it.”  He emphasized the words with a quick tug to Dean’s hair, and that alone seemed to send him into overdrive, a visible shudder washing over him.  
  
It was ironic when Dean called him sexy, because if he could only see himself right now.  There was really no comparison, as he mouthed along the bulge, still straining against Cas’ boxers, giving the smallest taste.  There was already precum soaking the fabric, and now Dean’s saliva was adding to the mess.  Fuck, Cas was undoubtedly going to be damp for the rest of the school day and reliving each of these moments on replay.

How the _hell_ was he supposed to teach with this kind of reminder?

The moment his cock was finally free from the too-tight cotton was also the moment he heard, “ _Goddamn_ , Cas,” and the swirling of a hot tongue greedily lapping the tip.

That was just the beginning.  Once Dean got a taste, he needed to kitten-lick Cas’ aching, pulsing erection from base to tip, every inch needed to be dripping with his spit.  Dean, while sucking on the right side of rough, would continually swipe the _briefest_ graze over the slit, like he was milking him for more precum.  And, oh, did it work.

Cas’ hand shot out to grab the desk; he needed to steady himself, because Dean was not holding back.  Cas knew damn well, from the endless hints due to Dean’s infuriating oral fixation, that he’d be amazing with his mouth, but he wasn’t—couldn’t have—prepared for _this_.

Maybe it was because it was _Dean_ who was bobbing up and down, taking more of his dick with each nod of his head?  Maybe it was because of _who it was_ that made his stomach do flip-flops while his blood ran hotter and threatened to boil?  Even though he’d fantasized about this moment, jerked off to images of Dean more times than he could remember, it wasn’t because he was gorgeous.  No, Dean and his filthy mouth were worth so much more.

Perhaps he’d let him know.  After he taught him his lesson.

God, Castiel was close, and he could help but reach down and grab a fistful of Dean’s hair on instinct as he stifled his moans.  The locked door was one thing if no one was in the classroom, but if a teacher was present it would look suspicious to want to keep others out.  They couldn’t risk getting caught, even though Cas wanted nothing more than to give Dean all the dirty words of encouragement he deserved.  All the praises, all the filthy groans that were on the verge of pouring from Castiel’s own lips—

What surprised him, was that when he looked down those wide green eyes were overflowing with want and carnal desire.  Dean wouldn’t look away, the eye contact was intently mesmerizing and pulled an unintentional throaty sigh from Cas; Dean continued to swallow him whole twice more, before popping off his cock.

Panting coupled with a raw voice, Dean begged with those sinfully swollen lips, “Fuck my face, Cas,” grabbing onto his thighs.  He smirked devilishly and added, “You know you want to.”

Just the suggestion made his knees weak, but when he tightened his hold with the hand already fisted in Dean’s hair…the long moan and pure _submission_ was stunning.  Dean wanted this, probably just as much as Cas did, and fuck, he didn’t think he could hold back anymore either.    
  
Only for a moment, Castiel’s mind wandered into even _more_ dangerous territory, like what Dean would be like in bed?  Would be bend over and beg for his cock, letting Cas do anything and everything he wanted?  If they weren’t sworn to silence because of the damn location would be beg, would he plead with obscene words to be filled with his dick?  
  
Everything about Dean surprised him, he was gorgeous, a dream.  He’d sent liquid pleasure rushing through Cas’ veins before they even touched.  Fuck, he was utterly amazing...

“So good, Dean.  I think I’ll forgive you after this,” Cas mused aloud, exchanging his grasp on the table for another fistful of Dean’s hair.

The second he wrapped his mouth around Cas’ cock, all without breaking eye contact, was the beginning of the end.

That tight, wet heat sucking down on his dick with every thrust in, Dean swallowing around him to make it even _tighter_ _—_ Cas didn’t hold back.  Mostly, because he couldn’t.  He was so damn close, and the way Dean was letting him, watching him, and not just humming around him, but keening…the vibrations were sending him over the edge.

The grip he had on Dean was the only thing keeping him from buckling completely as he doubled over, his orgasm and ecstasy more all-consuming than any he could remember.  It ripped the air from his lungs and the sound from his ears for a split second, catching his balance on Dean’s shoulders, as Dean swallowed down every drop of cum.

Once the room became a little more tangible, Cas’ senses back to the reality he’d momentarily left, he could feel Dean slowly pull off his softening cock.  The entirety of his body was still sparking with random zings of electricity, and Dean tugged him gently down to the floor, where he’d collapsed.    
  
They were sitting propped up against the wall, underneath the blackboard as they caught their breath and… took in what just happened.  
  
“Holy hell, Cas,” Dean’s eyes were heavily lidded, “You are… something.  Wow.”  

“I could say the same thing about you,“ Cas countered, adjusting his pants and reaching out to hold Dean’s hand while he smiled at the man.

Dean instantly took it and a grin ticked up the corners of his lips.  “Let’s hope the entire floor didn’t hear _just_ how much ya think so.”

With a snort, he rolled his eyes and said, “I honestly couldn’t care less right now.  I was…teaching a lesson, after all.  That’s what my job entails, isn’t it?”

“Heh, did I get a good grade?  And are we square?”

“Better than that, I hope,” Cas used the leverage he had on Dean’s hand and dragged him closer.  He kissed him tenderly, showing him that he meant it, and whispered, “I’ll make sure you get extra credit if you show up to my office hours.  Unfortunately, lunch break is over.”

With a dropped jaw, Dean watched as Cas stood and offered a hand to help him.  “Wait!  Y-you’re leaving me with… _this?!_ ” he gestured in wild bafflement to his own obvious erection.  “You can’t _-_!”

“In case you’ve forgotten, you’ve been doing that to me for countless _months_.  It’s only fair you experience your own trouble-making and where it gets you.”  With a shark-like grin, Castiel trailed a finger over Dean’s cock and offered in a voice pitched full of seduction, “I wish you luck.”

Dean's face all but turned red as Castiel gave him a peck on the cheek and turned around, because the clock on the wall indicated the next lecture would be starting in less than ten minutes.  They’d cut it close, that was around the time students began milling in to claim their seats in the lecture halls.  Both of them needed to get ready, and for once it was Dean who ended up with the short end of the stick.

Castiel couldn't help but grin when he unlocked the door and left it over, hearing a “ _Dammit_ , _Cas_!” echo through not only Dean’s classroom but down the hallway.  Who knew how far his booming voice went, but probably more than half the Political Science department knew that Professor Winchester wasn’t very happy with Professor Novak right now.  
  
The smile never left his face, because Castiel was the only person who knew the exact reason why.  Dean could complain all he wanted: payback was a bitch, and he’d been offered ‘extra credit.’  Cas was counting down the time until he was taken up on that offer, but more than anything he was crossing his fingers that now the dam was broken, perhaps, they could do some midterm grading together at one of their homes.  
  
Now that Cas had had a taste, his wandering mind would continue until it was satisfied, and it looked like Dean didn’t have a problem with it at all.  This was the beginning of something fantastic, even though he had nearly lost his fucking mind to get it: Dean was worth it, even when he was a teasing, petulant, overconfident brat.  Castiel was taken with him, and enjoyed him and his company exactly as it was.  And, _God_ , if he hadn’t been correct about that mouth...


End file.
